


Little black sketchbook

by DesertWaterfall



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Harry can draw and Tom can't, Horcruxes, M/M, Tom Riddle's Diary, that's basically the plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25556824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertWaterfall/pseuds/DesertWaterfall
Summary: Harry found an indestructible journal and what a better way to use it other than as a sketchbook? Sure, it later turned out that there is some ghost living there, but it doesn't mind and doesn't interfere much, so really, what's the problem?It's not until his fourth year that Harry realises that there can be something more to this little black sketchbook than he thought.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 39
Kudos: 233





	Little black sketchbook

**Author's Note:**

> I was proctrastinating and going through my old notes when I found this. It's my very first attempt at writing a fanfic, one I abandoned and forgot about back then. Rediscovering it now and remembering the story I had in mind, it still looks like a good enough idea. So, here it is now. No promises at to when I would update it next time ( _I have too many projects, oh my god, what am I doing_ ), but the story is relatively short, so hopefully it won't take long.
> 
> The rating may change, but for now I see this story as a rather soft one, with just a dash of angst and drama.
> 
> No beta.

Harry carefully examined the journal.

Even though he found it flashed down the toilet, it wasn’t damaged a single bit. Even _“T.M. Riddle”_ written on the first page wasn’t smudged — it seemed like the book was spelt to be waterproof. Harry tried to rip the page, but it gave no result either, and the page remained intact, stack where it was.

Magic was really awesome sometimes.

He inspected the journal closer. It looked like a diary of some sort, but the previous owner clearly forgot to write anything in it. And it was old, like, fifty years old, how did it even get here? Maybe someone found it accidentally and decided to use it for themselves, but then changed their mind because it didn’t really look all that neat and pretty?

If that was the case, Harry didn’t understand that person. The journal was awesome, even if somewhat shabby. He never before met a notebook that was charmed like that — against water and ripping. It was incredibly handy, actually. And what for its age, well, it was part of the charm. 

Harry itched to write something down, to mark the journal as _his_. He raised a quill to cross out the name of a previous owner and write down his own — but then hesitated.

This Riddle guy had a really nice handwriting. With a sign, Harry decided against ruining it with his messy chicken scratch.

But what he can use this journal for? It was obviously intended as a diary, but Harry didn’t want one, as he didn’t like the idea that someone could find it and read all his thoughts.

But he can use it as a sketchbook! After all, Harry was rather tired of drawing on random pieces of parchment and then losing them. It’d be nice to have everything in one place with an additional bonus of it being indestructible and therefore safe from accidents or, well, non-accidents by Dursleys.

Yes, a sketchbook will be perfect.

With a smile, Harry took a pencil and started sketching the Great Hall.

* * *

Harry quickly started to carry the sketchbook with him everywhere, so when he got bored, he had something to do. Hermione scolded him that it distracted him from classes even more, but it’s not like he drew all the time! And Ron told him that his drawings were cool and that Harry really had a talent for this — and anyway, who even cared about History of Magic?

He drew everything. Random objects, food, people — but mostly Hogwarts. The classrooms, the corridors, the hidden passages, the lake and forest outside littered with snow — Harry tried to capture every feature he loved about the castle. The thought of having all these pictures with him next time he’ll go to Dursleys never failed to warm him despite the worries that it can happen sooner than he’d like, what’s with the Heir of Slytherin terrorising the school.

Though, the Heir stopped. There wasn’t an attack in quite some time. Maybe they realised that they risked closing Hogwarts and thought better of it.

* * *

One day, Ginny came to him when he was sketching a slice of a treacle tart.

“Nice drawing, Harry,” she politely commented. “And a nice… sketchbook. Where did you get it?”

Harry slowly raised his eyes at her. 

Now that he thought about it, Weasleys was exactly the kind of family that would buy a fifty years old used dairy. And he _did_ find it in the girls bathroom. 

Not that he was going to return it. It was _his_ now.

“Thanks. I bought it in Diagon Alley this summer,” Harry smiled at her just as politely. “Almost forgot I had it, and now I carry it with me all the time! It was all shiny when I bought it, and now it looks as if it’s ages old, can you imagine? I guess I really ought to be more careful with my stuff.”

Harry flipped through pages, showing all the sketches, but avoiding the front one with Riddle's name on it. He hoped that if Ginny saw that the journal was already well-used, she won’t want it for herself anymore. Assuming, of course, that she really recognised it and changed her mind for some reason after throwing it out into the toilet — and really, how stupid was she to do so?

Ginny indeed seemed to calm down at the sight of all the drawings. She laughed too, albeit a little nervously. “Oh, that’s great. It just looked familiar to— Well, nevermind, beautiful pictures, you have a talent, bye!”

Ginny quickly walked away, and Harry sighed in relief, returning to sketching his favourite dessert.

* * *

Harry climbed in the bed, taking a pencil and the journal with him, but paused when he flipped to the first blank page.

There was someone else’s drawing.

“Erm, guys?” Harry stuck his head out of the curtains. “Did someone take my sketchbook?”

His roommates looked properly confused at the question and merely shrugged.

Harry looked again at the drawing. It was made in ink, and Harry never drew in ink because, well, you can’t fix it if you don’t like how it went out. It was really weird. And it was even weirder that someone just took his sketchbook, drew something in it and then returned it to his bag as if nothing happened. Who the hell even does that?

The sketch itself pictured Hogwarts castle, how it would look from the lake. It was… Well, it wasn’t _bad_ , exactly, but… It was evident that the author tried! And really hard, at that. Considering it was ink which meant no second-chances, it was even somewhat good. Yeah, the perspective was screwed, and shades were all in the wrong places, but it still had some charm in it.

Acting on a whim, Harry wrote under the sketch _"nice!"_. He wasn’t sure why he did it, Harry actually hoped that the mystery author wouldn’t steal his sketchbook again to see Harry’s opinion of his art, but he still did it.

Harry raised a pencil over the next page to start drawing something of his own, when suddenly on the page appeared some ink.

_“Thank you.”_

The words quickly faded away, and Harry dropped the sketchbook in shock. He was staring at the now blank page and tried to comprehend what just happened.

After some pause, Harry’s comment under the strange drawings faded away too. Afraid that the drawing itself will also disappear, Harry quickly picked up the journal and started writing.

“Hello! You are alive??”

His words slowly disappeared and after a second came an answer, in the same black ink the drawing was made.

_“Yes, I am alive in a way. My name is Tom Riddle. What’s yours?”_

Wow. Harry really didn’t imagine it.

Wait, Riddle? Harry flipped back at the front page, and indeed, the handwriting was the same. Was it the original owner of the journal?

Harry suddenly felt awkward. He was, after all, using someone else’s diary.

He started to scribble back. “Harry Potter,” he answered, and while his name was fading away he was already writing more. “So you’re something like a ghost? Living inside this journal? Is it okay I’m drawing here?”

The answer came slowly, as if somewhat hesitant.

 _“Hello, Harry Potter.”_ And then, almost instantly, _“Yes, it’s fine with me that you are drawing here. I rather like it, to be honest. And I’m not exactly a ghost, more like a memory of a person, but yes, I am living here.”_

Harry watched the words disappear again, thinking of what to say. He remembered now how Ron once spend a whole evening complaining about the detention he got in the Trophy Room, and how the redhead spend hours cleansing the medal of someone ‘Tom Riddle’, who apparently went at Hogwarts when the Chamber of Secrets was opened the first time. Harry thought about asking Tom about it but quickly dismissed it — he already felt as if he violated Tom’s privacy by using his diary, and Harry didn’t want to make it even more awkward by asking about Tom’s life.

Instead, he decided that an apology was in order. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you lived here, or I wouldn’t use this journal. Sorry. I mean, really, if I —”

 _“I’m not offended,”_ Tom interrupted, writing just beneath Harry’s messy words. _“But I am curious, how did you come by my journal?”_

Harry hesitated a bit before answering. “Someone tried to flush it down a toilet.” But Harry was pretty sure Tom wouldn’t like this answer — that anyone would like it, really — so he tried to distract Tom with a question. “How is it, living inside a book?”

Tom was silent for several seconds, and Harry became worried Tom was indeed hurt because someone threw him away, and in a toilet of all things. But then new words appeared slowly, unsurely, as if ready to disappear at any moment.

_“It’s boring.”_

Oh. Harry should have guessed, really. That was a wrong thing to ask.

He hesitated. Harry wanted to keep the sketchbook to himself, but seeing that someone _lived_ in there... 

“I can bring you to other ghosts if you want?” he finally wrote with a suppressed sigh. Someone’s life meant more than some stupid sketches. “Maybe it will be less boring then.”

 _“No, please don’t,”_ the reply came quickly this time. _“It’s already less boring now that I have your art to look at. And I’m not a ghost. Actually, if you want to keep the journal, you shouldn’t tell anyone about me. There are not many objects like me in the world and if someone finds out, they might take me away for experiments. I don’t think I’ll like it.”_

Harry didn’t know he could feel even more protective of this journal, but now he did. But it felt right, it was _his_ journal now, after all, and Tom said he liked his drawings! He even called it _art_. There is no way Harry would give Tom away for some experiments!

“Okay!” he wrote down with a smile. “I won’t tell anyone.”

_“Thank you, Harry.”_

The words disappeared, and Harry looked awkwardly at the empty page again. He wasn’t sure what to do now.

After a minute of silence, when it became clear Tom was not going to write anything — maybe he felt just as awkward — Harry summoned all his Gryffindor courage and raised the pencil again.

“So,” he boldly wrote. “Any requests about what to draw?”

 _“Just anything, really,"_ the ink quickly came into view. _“Pretend I’m not here.”_

The words didn’t linger, and soon the page was empty again, inviting. Harry couldn’t hold a smile.

He started sketching Hedwig.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think! I'm terribly unsure about the whole story, so your comment can literally save it from being abandoned again.


End file.
